


Only a Glimpse

by inkandwords



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, M/M, Multi, atsu fics, cop!mine, model!kise, nba!mine, papa!aokise, papa!kise, papa!mine, pilot!kise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandwords/pseuds/inkandwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine thinks he’s got everything he wants, but a glimpse into a life he could have had paints a different picture.</p>
<p>Inspired by the movie <i>The Family Man</i> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt0b-rkVZnM">this song</a>. Brief mention of snippets from our <a href="http://limitlessmonster.tumblr.com/tagged/k:attack">ShatterMe!verse roleplay</a>.</p>
<p><a href="http://miraclesweek.tumblr.com/prompts"><b>Miracles Week Day6/7 Prompt:</b></a> Crossover/AUs/Free Throw</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> I went completely self-indulgent. I have a dire need for cop!mine, pilot!kise, papa!aokise, and domestic!aokise. For shits and giggles, I threw in nba!mine and model!kise, too, as well as some pining!mine because who doesn't love a pining!mine? ;D Enjoy!
> 
> -H

_**Ten Years Ago** _

_"Last boarding call for Flight 720, bound for_   _New York_ _."_

Aomine turned toward the gate and sighed. “Looks like that’s me. I’ll call ya when I land,” he said before he leaned forward, forehead resting against Kise’s. For a brief moment, his eyes closed and all he was aware of was the sound of Kise’s breathing. Slow and steady, like he was doing it on purpose, trying to keep himself together in those even beats of air that wafted between them. “This is unreal, yeah? I mean, I know this shit’s happening, but still.” Another sigh escaped. “Man, I’m gonna miss you.”

Just then, he felt a tug as Kise bunched his shirt, his fingers clenched tightly enough that his knuckles turned a shade paler than normal. “Don’t go.”

"Hah? What do you mean ‘don’t go’? Flight’s already at last call, Ryouta. Stop fucking around."

"It’s exactly what I said. Don’t. Go. I have a bad feeling about this, Aominecchi."

"A bad feeling? Like the plane’s gonna crash or something?"

"No, I mean, with this," Kise said, pointing between them and fire-born eyes locking with Aomine’s. "With us. I know we’ve talked about it over and over again, and I know this is a phenomenal opportunity for you, but if you get on that plane—"

Aomine stared at Kise for a long minute. Kise, above everyone else, knew what this trip meant to him, knew that it was his shot, the opportunity he’d been dreaming about his whole life. They’d had lengthy discussions about it, the outcome from each conversation always in Aomine’s favor. After all, he’d been dreaming about playing for an NBA team since ever since he learned to dribble a basketball. 

"I know what this is." Aomine chuckled and shook his head. Of course, Kise was getting sentimental, maybe even a little worried. They hadn’t been apart longer than a few days at a time and it was natural for him to overreact to things. "We’re at an airport and sayin’ goodbye. You’re gettin’ a little antsy, but you got nothin’ to worry about, huh?"

"But—"

Aomine cradled Kise’s face, his thumb brushing across his lips in that pensive way he often did when he was trying to figure out just what it was that went through Kise’s head. “But nothin’. We’re good, right? We’ve got a plan. You’ve got that new contract with the new agency and the thing’s only for six months. I’ll be back before you know it and everything’ll be great.”

"You wanna do something great?" Kise asked, a hint of desperation in his voice, "How about we flush the plan? Let’s start our new lives together right here, right now. I don’t know what we’ll do; maybe you can get a spot on the National team and I can take more of the local modeling jobs, but at least we’ll be together."

"You’re scared. That’s why you’re spoutin’ off all this crazy shit. C’mon, Ryouta. We’ve got a great plan."

"The plan isn’t what makes us great, Aominecchi.  _We_  make us great. You and me. I don’t care if I don’t know what’ll happen next; I’ll be with you. And I choose us. I love you, Daiki.”

Aomine took in that familiar expression; it was the same one Kise wore when he lost the game between Kaijou and Touou all those years ago. Like nothing would ever be the same. Like Aomine would always be out of reach.

"I love you, too." Aomine wrapped his arms around Kise and kissed him, kissed him slowly, languidly, like it was the only thing he’d rather be doing, even with the announcer repeating the last call for his flight. When he pulled away, he cradled Kise’s face between his hands, his eyes searching a matching pair that shone bright like the sun. "And six months in New York isn’t gonna change that."

When he pulled away, he felt the disappointment in Kise’s gaze, the way his expression fell as though he were expecting Aomine to say something else, anything else but that. And he couldn’t bear it.

So he did the only thing he  _could_  do: he took a deep breath, turned on his heel, and walked away.

* * *

 

_**Now** _

"That was amazing. We should definitely do it again."

"I wouldn’t say no to that. I’m free tonight," Aomine drawled, a smirk tugging his lips as he set the magazine featuring Horikita Mai he’d been perusing down on his lap. He dipped down on the bed just enough to rest his head against the headboard, arms stretching out in front of him. 

Alex finished zipping up her dress, blonde hair falling over her shoulders as she slipped her shoes on. She righted herself, expression contemplative as though she were actually considering the idea, but shook her head instead and shot him a look of marked amusement. “You’re incorrigible, I swear. It’s Christmas eve, Daiki.”

"And you’re making it harder not to try and talk you out of whatever boring family shit you’ve probably got going on. Don’t you know the first name thing is an instant turn-on?" The smirk came out in full force as his eyes roamed over her entire body, taking the time to note her more ample assets before his gaze returned to her face. 

"I know, but I have to drive to Jersey to do my ‘family shit’, as you’ve so eloquently put it. I already told Taiga and he’s driving me."

"That idiot can go find a hot girl of his own and you can stay here instead. Pretty sure I can make your Christmas  _very_  merry. What do ya say?”

Alex laughed. "You drive a hard bargain, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a raincheck."

"A mistake I’m sure you’re gonna be thinkin’ about all night long." He eased off the bed, the thin sheet draped over his lap hanging from the edge to reveal a completely naked Aomine. Flexing lean muscles while he stretched out and gave her a generous view of exactly what she’d be missing, he chuckled as he rolled his shoulders in a shrug before he walked over and kissed her cheek. "But whatever floats your boat, doll face. Let yourself out, will ya? I need to shower."

Aomine made sure he heard the front door shut before he got into the shower. Alex was definitely someone he wanted to see again and the fact that she barely batted an eye at his nonchalant dismissal made her all the more desirable in his book. He didn’t need a girl who was going to cling to him every chance they got. And there were a lot of those. Even the guys he messed around with when he wanted to mix it up a bit seemed to always end up trying to smother him with attention. It was the quickest way for him to lose interest. 

After all, the last time he’d been in a relationship, it didn’t work out. There was no way he was ever going to put himself through that again.

* * *

 

"Don’t you have a game tonight, sir?"

"Hah?" Aomine turned toward the voice, expression blank, and hands stuffed into the pockets of his track suit. Yoshi, the doorman, gave him a polite smile as he shook his head. "Oh, right. The game." He chuckled and rolled his shoulders in a non-committal shrug. "Guess I do."

"Aren’t you already late?" Yoshi asked, eyeing Aomine’s attire and giving a chuckle of his own. "I can call a car for you if you’d like. It shouldn’t take long."

The man already had the phone receiver in his hand when Aomine shook his head. “Nah, I’m think I’m just gonna go out for a walk or something.”

"Oh, uh, are you sure?"

"Totally." Aomine zipped up his jacket and tugged the hood over his head. "They’ll win the game without me anyway." And without another word, he pushed through the revolving doors, leaving the doorman gaping after him in surprise. 

Snow had begun to fall and as Aomine trekked toward the nearest liquor store, intent on buying himself a large carton of eggnog and a bottle of the best whiskey a New York convenience store could possibly have, he wondered for a moment if maybe he should have gone to the game instead. He was already on thin ice for missing practice and the coach had personally given him an ultimatum for his behavior. After so long in the basketball circuit, he began to feel like he did back in his Teikou days; skipping practice when he got bored, slacking off when he actually managed to show up, and soon, he’d begun to skip entire games altogether. 

Basketball was his life. But sometimes, when he was too far gone into his own thoughts to care about much else, a touch of the old him, the one he thought he’d buried long ago, resurfaces. And the idea that he wasn’t the same person anymore, that all he was was a game he both loved and despised, depressed him. 

The convenience store was nearly empty when he entered. It wasn’t surprising, considering it  _was_  Christmas Eve, after all. He’d just gotten the carton of eggnog he came for when a guy in a dark hoodie and a pair of sunglasses entered the store, the chimes above the entrance tinkling in that way that often irritated him whenever he found himself inside one of these hole in the wall places. 

"Cashing in a lottery ticket," the guy muttered, keeping his gaze level with the cashier’s. 

The guy must have looked at the cashier the wrong way because the next thing Aomine knew, both of them were yelling about the ticket and it was obvious the new visitor was more than a little agitated. 

"JUST CASH THE FUCKING TICKET. WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?"

"We don’t serve creepy assholes here. Read the sign, bro." As if to emphasize his point, the cashier practically shoved the ‘We reserve the right to refuse service’ sign in the guy’s face. 

"You really don’t want to be doing that." Suddenly there was a gun in his hand and it was pointed directly at the cashier, a younger guy with a thick Asian accent Aomine couldn’t quite place, who literally looked like he was going to wet his pants right then and there. 

Aomine hesitated. He could get involved, but there was a gun and the amount of stupidity he’d have to possess to get in between someone and that gun was on a monumental level. Then again, the cashier actually looked like he might have wet his pants already and Aomine supposed he’d probably feel guilty in the morning if he didn’t do anything to help. 

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, his signature drawl more pronounced. It was a trick he used, something that usually worked when he wanted something from someone. "That’s probably not a good idea, huh? How about I buy the ticket from you and I can go cash it somewhere else where the guy behind the counter doesn’t have a death wish? What d’ya say?"

The guy with the gun turned his attention to Aomine, barrel pointed in his direction instead. “Was I talking to you?” A flash of recognition hit Aomine then, a realization mirrored by the guy’s expression. “Big shot NBA player gets shot trying to play the hero on Christmas Eve, news at ten. Is that what you want?”

"Nah, I’m just trying to—" 

"Trying to what? Because I don’t see this ending well for you, asshole." The guy stared at him with such intensity, despite the sunglasses he wore, that it momentarily took Aomine by surprise; but it was nothing next to the words that came out of the gunman’s mouth: "Do you want to die?"

Aomine froze. Whatever depressive state he’d been in came crashing down on him, all at once and then not at all. He had been down, sure, and there were times when he contemplated what it was to be alive, to feel that fire again, that thrill of passion for one of only two things he’d ever loved in his life. But suicidal? No. He didn’t want to die; not now and definitely not in some piece of shit liquor store in the middle of Manhattan. 

"No," he said, trying his best to suppress the arrogance permanently ingrained into him. "Of course I don’t want to die." It took all of his self control not to call the gunman a dumbass because he actually didn’t have a death wish tonight and that was a sure fire way to piss off the guy pointing a nine-millimeter in his face. He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills before holding it out as an offering. "I just wanna make sure the guy behind the counter doesn’t piss himself for being an idiot. If you can get your money out of it, win win, right?"

The gunman considered this, silently scrutinizing Aomine before he finally lowered the gun and nodded. “Yeah, all right.” He grabbed the eggnog from Aomine’s hand, tossed the ticket on the counter, and motioned for Aomine to follow. “C’mon, Aho. Let’s get out of here.”

Once outside, the guy, who looked strangely familiar as it was, removed his hood and Aomine’s jaw dropped. “S-Senpai?”

Nijimura’s face broke into an easy grin as he popped open the carton. He took a swig of the eggnog, swirled it around in his mouth, before he swallowed, the chuckle that escaped a sound that Aomine hadn’t heard since his middle school days. “I was wondering if you were going to recognize me. It’s been a long time, Aomine-kun.”

"Hell yeah. It’s been what? Fifteen years? I didn’t know you moved to America. You just sorta disappeared after you graduated."

"There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, but that’s probably my fault for not keeping in touch with anyone from Teikou." Nijimura shrugged and took another long gulp from the carton. 

"Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit."

"Things happen."

"What’s with the sunglasses? I don’t know if anyone told you, but there’s no sun out in the middle of the night. That’s probably why the guy in the liquor store thought you were a weirdo."

"Maybe. But I had a migraine," Nijimura said as though that would explain everything.

"Is there somewhere you can go? Maybe a shelter or something?" Aomine was trying to be helpful. Nijimura had always been someone he got along with, someone he looked up to. And looking at him now filled Aomine with pity as he shook his head. "There’s gotta be a program or something that can help you. A twelve step thing. Is that what it’s called?"

Nijimura looked at him in the same way a parent looks at their kid when they’d just said something completely amusing. “You think I need to be saved?”

"No, that’s not what I meant. Well, maybe," he said after giving it a second thought. "You did just pull a gun on some guy for not cashing your lotto ticket. I’m just saying that you look like you could use some help."

Aomine expected Nijimura to disagree, but the boisterous laughter caught him off guard. “I could say the same thing about you.”

"Hah? Me? I got everything I need."

"Everyone needs something, Aomine-kun. Whether you know it now or it comes biting you in the ass later. Everyone needs something and you’re no exception."

"You’re wrong. You know who I am. You know what I do. I’m living the dream, man. Don’t need anything else that I haven’t already got."

"You don’t, huh?" Nijimura was silent for a moment. Then before Aomine could say anything else, he turned and began walking away.

"Hey, wait a sec! Where are you going? I was just trying to help."

Pausing when he reached the corner, Nijimura turned back toward where he had left the ace. “Remember, you did this to yourself. You asked for it.”

"Ehh? Did what to myself? Hey!" Aomine called out when Nijimura disappeared down the next street. "I didn’t ask for anything!"

Heaving a sigh when he didn’t get a response, he stuffed his hands back into his pockets and set off for home. Try as he might to keep his mind from wandering back to the conversation that night, nothing he did prevented Nijimura’s words from repeating in his head even as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 

The sound of twittering birds broke through a particularly raunchy dream Aomine was having, one involving a very naked Alex in various stages of undress, complete with a black cuffs and matching lingerie.

_What the fuck are birds doing all the way up here? And who the hell left the curtains open? Ugh._

He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow, grumbling about needing to remind the cleaning lady to leave his room alone while she straightened up the rest of the house. 

A quiet groan came from beside him and he stilled, a hand tentatively reaching out for the source of the sound. He couldn’t remember much of what happened the night before and he was pretty sure the whiskey had something to do with it, but even as drunk as he was, he was almost certain he’d remember letting someone spend the night. 

"Five more minutes, Daiki," came the voice buried under the pillow next to him. He tried to place where he’d heard it before, the familiarity tugging at him until he was forced to lift the edge of the pillow to reveal a head of disheveled blond hair underneath. 

"What the f—"

Before he could finish the string of profanities, the door burst open and it was only then did he realize that he was definitely not in his room. 

"JINGLE BELLS, BATMAN SMELLS, ROBIN LAID A EEEEEEEGG!! FA-LA-LA LA-LA-LA-LA!" A little blonde girl who looked about five (and really, it was a pretty good guess considering Aomine had never been around children  _ever_ ) clambered up the bed carrying what seemed to be a blue-haired doll. Aomine squinted and turned to get a good look only to realize that it wasn’t a doll, but a baby who, strangely enough, had a considerable likeness to him. “C’moooooon! It’s morning! It’s  _Christmas_  morning! Presentsssss!”

Aomine’s eyes widened as he scrambled off the bed, head swiveling around in a panic while he tried to locate a pair of pants. 

_What the actual fuck is going on?! How much exactly did I have to drink last night?!_

Finally, he managed to grab a pair of track pants from the top of a folded pile in the corner, slipped them on, and was just about to bolt out the door when a hand shot out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. 

"Strong… coffee…" 

He turned toward the voice, more familiar now that there was no pillow to muffle it. While he silently repeated that there was no fucking way it was who he thought it was, he knew even before he’d turned around whose face he would see. Hair sticking up in all directions and wearing what looked to be one of Aomine’s old Touou t-shirts, was someone he never thought he’d see again. 

"Daiki, are you okay?" Kise asked, his brows creasing with worry.

"Y-Yeah, fine," he managed before calling out over his shoulder in his quest to find the nearest exit. "I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back!"

_My car… Christ, at least tell me I dreamed my stupid car into his goddamn nightmare._

Aomine threw on one of the jackets hanging from the hook by the door, rushed outside, and nearly slipped on a patch of ice on the walkway. Everywhere he turned, snow covered everything like a thick, white blanket. But even with all the snow, he figured it’d be easy to spot the Corvette. He was in fucking suburbia, after all. How many Corvettes could be parked outside?

"Daiki-kun! You’re up early!" A blonde female waved at him from a few yards away, her other hand holding open the door to an SUV where smaller versions of herself jumped out and began chasing each other up the walkway to the house he’d just run out of. Her face brightened into a familiar smile and instantly, he knew who it was. 

Kise Reiko was almost a carbon copy of her younger brother, sporting the same golden hair and matching eyes, the same smile that threw him off with just how friendly it was. Rika, the oldest of the three, looked less like the other two, but as far as Aomine was concerned, they all looked like the poster kids for ‘How To Make Genetically Superior Offspring’. She got out of the SUV last, mirroring the wave and smile her younger sister had given him. “Dai-kun! Mind giving us a hand with the presents? Reiko went a little overboard this year,” she said laughing as she thumbed over in Reiko’s direction where the other girl was trying to heave a bag of presents over her shoulder.

"Did you guys see a Corvette out here?"

"Huh? A Corvette? Why on earth would there be a Corvette around here? Did you get new neighbors?" Reiko piped up, her amber eyes alight with interest. 

"Nah," he muttered, his focus back on the quiet street as he scanned the area for his car again. "Shit,  _SHIT_. Hey, can I borrow your car really quick? I swear I’ll bring it right back.”

"Tch, as if I’d let you drive my new baby. What’s wrong with your car?" Reiko asked and pointed to the snow-covered SUV parked in the driveway. 

Aomine squinted. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. A Honda? Really? I drive a fucking Honda?”

"Uh, yeah? Were you expecting a Ferrari?" They both laughed, their heads shaking in unison as they followed behind the screaming rugrats now bouncing up and down on the front porch. 

"Closer to it than a fucking Honda," he muttered as he patted the pockets of his jacket and found a set of car keys. Without another word to either of them, he hopped into the vehicle and practically mowed down the trash bins at the end of the driveway before he took off. 

He was dreaming. That was all there was to it. Now all he had to do was wake himself up.

His first stop was his apartment. He needed something to ground him, somewhere familiar he can go to sort through whatever mindfuck he was currently going through. And what better place than home? 

"Hold it right there, bud. Residents only." Yoshi held up a hand to stop him and Aomine stared like the guy had suddenly grown two heads. 

"Is this some kind of joke? Stop fucking around, Yoshi. I’m not in the mood, all right? Just lemme in and I’ll forget this whole bullshit you’re trying to pull off right now." He made to stride past the man, but again was stopped by the hand pressed firmly to his chest. 

"Residents only. Don’t make me force you off the property for trespassing."

"Force me off the—" Aomine scowled, fist clenched at his side. "You better believe I’m filing a complaint after this shit. Consider yourself fired, dumbass."

"Whatever bud. Go find a shelter or something, huh? I’m sure there’s one you can go to somewhere in the city," Yoshi called after him as he stormed off.

He slid back into the CR-V that, much to his dismay, smelled faintly of pancakes instead of the crisp new leather smell his Corvette sported. “What the hell is going on?”

He sped off toward the stadium, hoping that someone,  _anyone_  would recognize him. It wasn’t hard; he was, after all, the only dark-skinned Japanese player on the team. Barely patient enough to get the vehicle parked curbside, he jumped out as soon as he yanked the key from the ignition and hurried to the main entrance, feet pounding against the pavement like his life depended on it. 

"Hey, hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going? Those are the players’ locker rooms!" A security guard dressed in a gray uniform a size too big came running up to him, breaths coming out in labored wheezes when he finally reached the ace. "You can’t go in there."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I can."

"Only players can go in there," the guard repeated as he vigorously shook his head. "C’mon, man. It’s Christmas day. It’s my first day on the job and I can’t afford to get fired just ‘cause some guy wanted to sneak in to get a peek. You can try to see if they’ll let anyone in after the game tonight. Maybe you’ll get lucky, huh? With it being Christmas and all."

"Are you out of your goddamn mind? You’ve gotta be an idiot if you don’t know who I am."

The guard gaped at him, his expression both confused and a little concerned. “Um, should I know who you are?”

"Aomine Daiki."

"Uh…"

"Daiki Aomine," he repeated, correcting himself to the way Westerners said his name as his ego fueled his irritation. "Power forward for the Knicks, dumbass."

"Doesn’t ring a bell. Are you sure you’re okay? We got Bargnani and Martin. Never heard of an Aomine."

The guard’s comment stumped him and an hour later, he sat in front of the stadium, unmoving despite the cold. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an engine, loud and unmistakable. He scrambled to his feet and headed for the curb, his face screwing into a furious scowl just as familiar car skidded to a stop in front of him. 

"You stole my fucking car," he cried out, pounding his fist against the window until the driver glanced over and casually pressed the button to slide the glass down.

"Now, now," Nijimura said, chuckling as he tipped his sunglasses down to get a better look at Aomine. "Is that any way to talk to your senpai? Get in and I’ll explain everything."

"No! I’ve had enough of this bullshit! Get the fuck out of my car or so help me, I’m gonna drag you out myself."

Nijimura revved the engine, brow rising in challenge. “Oh, yeah?”

Aomine sighed and rubbed a hand against the top of his head in visible frustration. “Goddammit.”

"Just get in, idiot. I promise I’ll explain everything."

Reluctantly, Aomine agreed and opened the passenger side door. “This better be good.”

Sliding his sunglasses back up, Nijimura grinned and gave the engine another customary rev before he hit the gas. Aomine lurched forward and braced a hand on the dashboard. “Watch out, this thing can really go.”

"Yeah, I know. My car, remember?" Aomine glared at the man with open disdain. "Now what the fuck is going on? I wake up in the middle of suburbia hell and no one recognizes me. I can’t even get into my own place without the doorman threatening me with trespassing."

"It’s a glimpse." Nijimura was quiet for a moment, like he was contemplating saying anything more, but decided to continue anyway. "In all fairness, you did this to yourself."

"Eh? A glimpse for what? What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything!"

"Really? ‘Don’t need anything else that I haven’t already got.’ Does that sound familiar?"

Aomine’s jaw fell slack before he threw his hands up in the air, his voice rising in panic. “Hah?! So just ‘cause you thought I was a cocky little shit, I’m now on a permanent acid trip?!”

"It’s not permanent," Nijimura said, sharply turning a corner and causing Aomine to ricochet off the window. "You’ve got a lot of good left in you, Daiki. A lot of good. You showed that when you intervened last night."

"Okay, so I’m a good person and now you’re sticking me in a permanent mindfuck? That makes a lot of sense." Aomine was breathing hard now. "What the hell is this supposed to be a glimpse of anyway?"

"That’s up to you to figure out." Nijimura threw a paper bag into his lap. "Here, breathe into this. It’ll help."

"Figure out what? How long am I stuck here?"

"For as long as it takes." Easing the car to a stop, Nijimura unlocked the door and reached over to open the passenger side.

"Wait, wait, wait, that’s it? That can’t be it. There’s gotta be something else. How am I supposed to figure out how to get everything back to normal?"

"You’re smart. You’ll figure it out. Oh, before I forget, here." He handed him a bag. "That’s for you."

Aomine opened it and pulled out a bicycle bell. “What’s this? Is this how I get a hold of you?”

"I gotta go, Daiki. I have more people to see."

"But you can’t just leave me here like this."

"All right. How about we get out and go for a walk? Talk it out some more?"

"Yeah," Aomine said, nodding slowly as though he were snapping out of a daze. "Yeah, sounds good." He made to get out of the car, but just as he shut the door behind him, the engine revved again. Nijimura hit the gas, leaving Aomine gaping furiously at the car as it disappeared around the corner.

* * *

 

Driving around suburbia hell wasn’t exactly on his game plan, but even with a map in hand, his sense of direction wasn’t helping any (who needed directions anymore anyway when everyone had GPS?). In his earlier haste, he didn’t think to remember the address of the house he’d inexplicably woken up in nor did he remember the route he took in his hurry to get the hell away from it. He counted his blessings that he had at least managed to get the name of the street while he was busy careening around the corner. 

Aomine was just about to give up when he spotted someone shoveling snow in their front yard. Asking for directions was never something he did, but it was either that or continue driving around like an idiot while he tried to find a house he had no memory of.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but you know where Lake Street is?”

The redhead turned around and as soon as he caught a glimpse of Aomine, a distinct pair of crimson eyes widened before he let out a boisterous laugh. “Oi, Aho! Where the hell have you been? Kise’s been looking for you everywhere!”

“Bakagami?” Aomine’s surprise mirrored Kagami’s. He supposed he should count himself lucky that he ran across someone he actually knew. “You live here?”

“Uh, yeah? You okay, shithead?” Kagami gazed at him with obvious concern as he braced himself against the open window. Before Aomine could respond, a car pulled up into the driveway and Kagami’s gaze turned toward whoever it was that exited the vehicle. “Hey, Kuroko! I found the idiot! You owe me twenty bucks!” he called out, pointing at Aomine.

“Hah? Tetsu? Since when did you and Tetsu happen?”

“Haha, very funny, asshole.” Kagami shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Everyone’s been worried about you, Aomine-kun. You should probably go home or at least call Kise-kun to tell him you’re all right.” Tetsu hadn’t changed much, mostly still lacking the presence he never had back when they played ball together, but something about him seemed different somehow. More confident. Happy. It was weird seeing him that way and even stranger still was the doubtless suspicion that Kagami had something to do with it.

“Ah, Kise. Right,” Aomine muttered, lips pursing at the thought of the blond. Though he really didn’t want to go back to the house, he knew that the sooner he figured out what the hell this glimpse was supposed to be about, the sooner he can get out of there and go home to his old life where everything made sense.

“C’mon, moron. You can go through the back.” Kagami pushed off the window's edge and motioned for Aomine to follow.

Aomine scrambled out of his car, half afraid that Kagami would disappear (which didn’t entirely make sense, but then again, not much in this parallel hellhole did), and trailed behind, feet sinking into the fresh inches of snow that had fallen over the lawn in a bed of white. “Hold on, we live next to each other?”

“Okay, cut the crap. It was funny the first couple of times, but you’re being weird and you’ve managed to freak Kise out – on Christmas day, too, mind you – so you need to prep yourself before you go in. Make sure you start with the apology ‘cause god knows you’re gonna have a lot of groveling to do with that shit you just pulled.”

A few minutes later, Aomine walked into the house, bracing himself for the worst. He glanced around and heard a voice coming from the kitchen.

“He’s about six four, dark skin, can’t miss him. Could you just—“ Kise halted mid-sentence, rapidly blinking when he caught sight of Aomine. “Sorry, never mind. He just walked through the front door. Yeah, uh huh, thanks. Sorry again!” The phone beeped before Kise breathed a sigh of relief and threw his arms around him. “You’re okay…”

Aomine stiffened at the contact. “Uh, yeah. Just needed a little air.”

“A little air? Where the hell have you been, Daiki?” Kise’s voice rose an octave at the tail end of the question, a strained franticness edging out Aomine’s given name. “I called everyone we knew. I even phone into the station to see if you’d gone into work unexpectedly and no one’s heard from you. What kind of a guy leaves his family on Christmas day without saying a goddamn thing?  _What kind of a guy does that, Daiki?!_ ”

He flinched at the accusation. “The station?” Aomine asked blankly.

“The police station? Where you work?” The fire burned in Kise's scrutinizing gaze, locking on him for a second before they rolled in visible frustration. There had been a whole lot of that directed at him lately, like he was all of a sudden supposed to know these things and the sight of it, yet again, added to his own agitation.

“Huh? I’m a cop?” He braced a hand on a nearby bookshelf to steady himself. A cop. He was a policeman and not a basketball player. That explained what happened at the stadium.

“Don’t. Don’t do that. I don’t care how hilarious you think it is while you pretend that this isn’t your life. It’s not funny today, okay?”

Kise sniffled and it wasn’t until Aomine heard it that he realized Kise had been crying. Suddenly, he was back at the airport all over again and watching Kise’s tear-streaked face before he disappeared into the terminal. Somehow, the weight of Kise’s crying face still carried the same effects it had all those years ago and the realization formed a lump in his throat.

“Look, I’m sorry—“

Kise sunk into one of the dining room chairs and lifted his gaze to meet Aomines’s. “You missed everything. The presents, the pancakes, the whole nine yards. Sachi was so excited to finally get to help with Christmas breakfast that she even made you Mickey Mouse pancakes and you missed it.” He rubbed his face and Aomine saw just how tired Kise really was. “You spent all night finishing that bike for her and you didn’t get to see her open it. You just…” Kise paused and exhaled. “…you missed  _Christmas_.”

“I—“

But Kise cut him off with a shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What does matter is that you’re okay. I’m fine, we’re fine, and you’re back now.” He rose from his seat and gave Aomine another hug, tighter this time, before he headed toward the stairs. “I gotta get ready. My flight leaves in three hours and I still have to check in at the airport because they’re putting me on one of those new 747’s tonight.”

“Wait, what? You’re leaving? Where’re you goin’?” Panic gripped him. He was still getting used to everything and being stuck with someone else’s kids all by himself made him more nervous than the first time NBA game he’d ever played. “Who’s gonna look after the rugrats?”

Kise snorted. “The dog will. He’s a regular Nana, just like in Peter Pan.” He gave another exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Just make sure you don’t let Sachi stay up late again, okay? And no ice cream until after she’s had dinner. I swear, you spoil her too much sometimes,” he said, a certain fondness in his tone as a small grin materialized. “I won’t be gone long this time. Just two flights to break in the new jet, so I’ll be back day after tomorrow.”

“Eh? Break in the new jets? You’re a pilot?”

“Not funny, Daiki. I’m gonna shower. There’re some leftovers in the microwave. Heat it up if you’re hungry.” And with that, he left Aomine staring after him.

So Kise was a pilot. “Huh,” he muttered, taking it all in. He always did have a thing for the uniform.

* * *

 

When Aomine awoke the next morning, his hand reached out to find the other side of the bed empty and for a moment, he thought the nightmare had ended, that he was back in his own bed instead of the suburbia hell he'd been stuck in. Eyes still closed, he breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled.

"Thank g--"

A wailing cry interrupted him and his eyes opened to find he was still in the same room he'd fallen asleep in the night before. "Goddammit," he swore under his breath. He would have stayed in bed longer, but the crying continued, the sound grating on his nerves until he forced himself up off the bed and into the room where the noise was coming from.

"I can't believe I have to put up with this shit," he muttered as he entered the room. It smelled faintly of baby powder, but there was something else, something that made his nose wrinkle in disgust and he guessed that whatever it was probably came from the little thing sticking its arms and legs up in the air inside the crib. He picked it up and held it out in front of him like he was afraid of catching the smell. It was probably an overreaction, but a part of him did think the shit was going to come flying out of the kid if he mishandled it. 

"You're not my dad, are you?"

Aomine nearly dropped the baby as he flinched at the sound. "Christ! Where the hell did you come from?" he asked, brows pinching together in annoyance. 

Sachi slid off the bean bag chair in the corner and tentatively approached him. She motioned for him to bend down and when he did, small hands found themselves on his face, smoothing over his cheeks and tracing down the line of his nose. She pressed her fingertip between his brows and only then did he relax his expression, the gesture acting as a sort of calming mechanism that he remembered Kise used to do when they were younger.

"You look exactly like him. They did a good job."

He smirked. "Your dad must be a good lookin' guy then--" Her latter statement caught him off guard. "Wait, who did a good job?"

"The aliens." She said it so matter-of-factly that it was hard to argue with her. Besides, with the strange things going on lately, he wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't the work of aliens. Her expression changed then, curiosity shifting to something that reminded Aomine of Nigou's sad expressions when he used to watch the dog for Tetsu. "Where's my real dad?"

The question gave him pause. He barely knew where he was, never mind wherever it was the 'him' from this perpetual acid trip was schlupped off to while he was stuck with the other guy's life. "I don't know, kiddo, but wherever he is, I'm sure he's good. This is just a glimpse. He'll be back in no time."

Sachi seemed confused at the mention of the glimpse, but nodded just the same. "Okay," she said and pointed to the rugrat now cooing on the changing table. "I can help you if you want. I always helped Dad with stuff 'cause I'm a big girl now."

"Uh, yeah, sure thing." Far be it for him to turn down an offer like that. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to be doing and even if the offered help did come from a five year old, at least he didn't have to go through it completely blind.

"Okay, first things first. You have to change Shi-shi's diaper. Babies can't go to daycare with poopy diapers."

"Change his--" Aomine forced a swallow and blinked as his gaze locked onto the soggy, lumpy thing still attached to the baby. "I don't suppose you'd like to do the honors?" he asked her, a tinge of desperation in his voice. 

"Not a chance. You have to hurry, though. I'm going to be late for school."

A groan escaped as he rubbed the top of his head. "Ugh, all right, all right." He flexed his fingers and rolled his neck until he heard an audible crack. "Wait a sec, how do I take the damn thing off?"

Her exasperated sigh sounded oddly like a sound he'd make as she tugged on his hand, eyes rolling at him like she was the parent and he was the child. "C'mon, I'll show you how to change a diaper."

* * *

 

Pulling up curbside when he got to the daycare, Aomine attempted to get the baby out of the car seat, his frustration rising when he couldn’t figure out how to unlatch the thing holding the rugrat in. “Who the hell makes these things?!”

“Push the red button,” Sachi said as she stifled a giggle.

“The red bu—“ He searched the contraption for the thing she was talking about and gave a huge sigh of relief when he found it. Pressing the button like she instructed, the latch came undone, the lap bar rising up above Takeshi’s head. “Sweet, that’s pretty cool,” he mumbled, feeling a sense of self-accomplishment at having managed to remove the little rugrat from his death trap. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s not like I can go anywhere,” she said and tugged on the seat belt strapping her in.

It took all he had not to retort like some kid arguing with a five year old, scowling as he took the baby and promptly handed him off to one of the attendants checking the other children in at the entrance. When he didn’t leave, the woman looked at him in mild confusion and gave him a bright smile. “Is there something else you needed?”

“Do I, uh, get a receipt or something?”

* * *

 

Dropping off Sachi was a considerably easier task. She was pretty self sufficient for her age and Aomine was surprised to find that he was more than a little impressed.

“So, I have school until three and tae kwon do until four thirty. After that, Suki’s mom takes us to piano and you pick me up from there at five-thirty. The address is in your iPhone. Don’t be late, okay? Kids don’t like waiting by themselves in the cold.”

Aomine checked his phone to make sure the address was, in fact, there. He nodded when he finally located it. “Gotcha. Piano at five-thirty.”

“Well, see ya later,” she said, pushing the door open to let herself out.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he called out and she halted, turning to face him with an expectant tilt of her head. “Where am I supposed to go now?”

“The police station? You should probably change into a nicer shirt, though.” She eyed his old Touou t-shirt and wrinkled her nose. “You always wear the black blazer and Papa has all your work shirts organized in the big closet. Your socks and ties are in the drawers by the shoes, but you don’t ever wear ties even if they said you had to. Papa always gets this look on his face whenever he laughs about it because he says you were the same exact way when you were both in high school.”

“I don’t have to wear a uniform?”

“Detectives don’t wear uniforms,” she said, her face brightening into a smile that reminded him of the ones Kise used to give him back before he’d left for America. “Dad told me that when he got promoted and he was so happy about it that he took me out for ice cream after!”

“Detective…” he said, enunciating the word slowly like he couldn’t believe this was actually what he did for a living.

“Don’t worry. You got this.” She sounded so sure of herself that he had a hard time not wanting to believe her. “I have to go now. Tell Uncle Tatsuya I said hello!” And without another word, she got out of the car and bounded for the entrance, leaving him staring after her.

An hour later, Aomine finally arrived at the police station, nodding in silent greeting to people who waved their good mornings. No one looked remotely familiar and while he stood outside looking through his phone for any clues as to what exactly he was supposed to be doing there, a voice behind him broke his concentration and he nearly dropped the phone in the process.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the late riser. I’m glad you made it in, Daiki,” Himuro said, handing Aomine a cup of coffee before motioning for him to enter the building first. Aomine hadn’t seen him since they were in high school and couldn’t remember ever being friends with the guy, let alone someone close enough to call him by his first name. “I actually thought you’d be much later considering what happened, running off on Christmas day and all.”

“How did you—“

“Taiga called me looking for you when you disappeared. He asked if we had any cases that you might have been working on and I regretfully informed him that there weren’t any important enough that you needed to be called away from your family.” Himuro took a sip of his coffee and rounded a corner, Aomine following behind him. “You must have had something really pressing to leave Ryouta and the children like that.”

For some reason, hearing Himuro say Kise’s first name so casually grinded on his nerves and he scowled, more annoyed at himself for being jealous over something so petty when, technically, in the real world, he and Kise weren’t even together. But nevertheless, the wave hit him and he had to remind himself that they were in America, after all. People generally didn’t refer to each other by their last names.

It took a little bit of time to get himself situated in his new workspace. He couldn’t let it slip why he didn’t know where anything was and it was by luck that there had been someone waiting for him at his desk that he even figured out where the damn thing was. By noon, he was ready to call it a day, and he wondered if the job was always as boring as it had been in the short period he’d been there. There was a time when he had thought about becoming a police officer, but he used to imagine himself in uniform, out on the streets. Not sitting behind a desk pushing paperwork all day.

“Mine-chin, you’re here. I heard you disappeared yesterday. You made Kise-chin really worried, you know.”

_You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me._

“Murasakibara? What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in L.A.?”

“Hm? What would I be doing there? No one would run the bakery shop while I was gone.” Murasakibara’s confusion was short-lived as Himuro came up behind the giant and tugged him low enough to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Daiki’s been acting strange all day. Don’t mind him.” He peered into the bag Murasakibara had brought with him, eyes closing for a brief second as he breathed in the savory aroma. “Smells Italian. Chicken Parmigiana?”

“Close, Muro-chin. Cacciatore. I was trying out a new recipe and I brought Tiramisu, too. Not as good as red bean cakes from yesterday, but you might like it.”

“You cook?” Aomine didn’t mean to interrupt, but he was still stumped because the Murasakibara he knew was supposed to be in Los Angeles, playing for the Lakers.

“I own a bakery restaurant, so yeah, I guess I do.” He gave Aomine a quizzical look before he shook his head and handed over one of the bags he held. “This one’s for you. I made extra. You said you wanted something new to try so you can make it for Kise-chin when you got home.”

“Eat fast, though, Daiki. They just brought in someone with info on that case you’ve been working on. They’re in room three and they look a little antsy. It’s probably because they were at the hospital being treated for some unrelated injury and ran into your old friend there. What was his name again, Atsushi?” he asked as he turned his attention back to Murasakibara. “Midorima, wasn’t it?”

“Mido-chin has that effect on people.”

“He’s here, too?” Aomine scoffed. He hadn’t seen Midorima in years and from what it sounded like, the former shooting guard hadn’t changed much. At _least there are some things I can count on to stay the same. Heh._ “Is he a doctor? And is he still with that midget that used to pedal the rickshaw for him?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You act like you didn’t just have dinner with them last week. I thought Takao was Ryouta’s best friend?”

“Oh, right. Of course he is.” Aomine cleared his throat. “And yeah, I’m totally fine,” he said, waving off whatever concern both Himuro and Murasakibara seemed to have. “You guys enjoy your lunch. I’ll see ya later. Thanks for the food, I guess.” He lifted the bag in lieu of a wave goodbye before walking off toward the interrogation rooms.

* * *

 

“Smells good in here!” came the voice from the living room.

Aomine heard the front door close and instantly, he was nervous. Acclimating himself to his perpetual mindfuck had taken some getting used to, but acclimating himself to Kise all over again was a different story. After all, before a few days ago, Aomine hadn’t seen him in over ten years.

There was a certain awkwardness that hit him as soon as Kise’s voice rang throughout the house and he nearly dropped the pan he was holding as he scrambled to get the rest of the dish on the serving plate. Aomine wasn’t sure what their normal routine was, if he should call out or remain quiet, and having to learn to be with Kise again caused a tightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years.

“Papa!” Sachi’s voice trilled from somewhere in the house before Aomine heard the loud _thumps_ of footfalls as she ran out to greet Kise. “Dad’s making catch toris!”

“’Catch toris’, huh?”

“Yeah! He even let me help ‘cause I’m a ‘cute little shit’!”

Kise’s laughter was an unbelievable thing. It started with a bell-like note, clear and true, that crescendo’d into a orchestral number that was as contagious as the first time Aomine had fallen in love with it. He was still laughing when he entered the kitchen, Sachi anchored to his hip, hair slightly disheveled from the wind, and looking so stupidly beautiful that it was a good minute before Aomine realized he was staring.

“Are you going to stand there holding that all night or do you want me to help you finish setting up dinner?” Kise asked, eyes teasing as he set Sachi down.

“I—uh—“ Aomine blinked. The way Kise looked in uniform floored him and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been rendered completely speechless. “Christ, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Kise’s thousand-watt smile curved his lips in that easy way Aomine remembered. “If this is you trying to make up for disappearing, keep going. You probably shouldn’t use that language around the kids, but this is good stuff,” he said, taking the pan from Aomine’s hands and slowly setting it down in the empty sink. Then, before Aomine could protest, Kise closed the distance between them, warm lips momentarily making him forget everything else except for the sudden, noticeable thrum of his own heartbeat.

His eyes were still closed when Kise pulled away, the familiar scent of lavender nostalgic and causing him to force a swallow. “That was—“

“I know it was only a few days,” Kise interrupted, the makings of a pout already forming. “But god, I missed you. Even if you were a complete a-s-s-h-o-l-e  before I left.”

Aomine’s brow rose in confusion at the spelling before he realized the reason Kise did it in the first place. His reaction couldn’t decide what it wanted to go with and so the sigh that escaped sounded like something that resembled a scoffed snort instead. “About that,” he began.

But Kise shook his head. “I told you, it’s fine. You just scared me for a sec. All I care about is that you came back.”

“Eh? Why wouldn’t I?” The words struck Aomine as odd. He seemed to have built himself a good life in whatever this alternate universe was, so why wouldn’t the other him have come back?

Kise smiled, a hint of pensiveness dimming his usual glow. “It’s nothing, Daiki. C’mon, let’s eat! Airplane food is definitely not high on my list and I’m starving!”

Aomine nodded. It was a miracle that he survived the first few days at all, but sitting at the table as they ate, trading anecdotes with Kise as the kids chattered in the background, like the last ten years had disappeared and they were ‘them’ again: easy, natural… _happy_ , it dawned on him that maybe this suburbia hell wasn’t so hellish after all.

* * *

 

Aomine barely noticed the blare of the alarm when he reached over to shut it off, sock-clad feet hitting the hardwood floor before he padded down to the kitchen to heat up the baby’s bottle. He had gotten used to the routine in the last few months, gotten used to the ordinary humdrum of life in suburbia that he could now do everything even while half asleep.

After giving Takeshi his bottle and sleepily mumbling something to Sachi about watching him, he trudged back into the master bedroom with every intention of getting another half hour of sleep before he needed to actually get up. What he didn’t expect was Kise balancing himself against the balls of his feet, a large box held out in front of him, and wearing a smile that nearly blinded Aomine as he entered.

"Now, before you give me whatever crazy thing you’ve got up your sleeve this year, I want you to open mine first! Come on, come on, come on! Open it!!"

Aomine stared blankly at the box like it was going to sprout wings. At Kise’s insistent request, he took it from his grasp and set it on the edge of the bed before ripping the wrapping off and slipping his finger beneath the lip of the lid. It popped off and Aomine’s jaw fell slack, his eyes widening at the authentic New York Knicks jersey folded neatly beneath the thin layer of tissue. 

"You—"

"—got you an autographed Knicks jersey? Yeah, I kinda did." Kise’s smile was electric, his excitement bursting from him like some sort of internal combustion. "I know it’s not the one signed by the entire team that you were ogling, but I saw it on eBay and I couldn’t help myself. You totally deserve it. Happy anniversary, babe!" He snickered and held out his hands, squirming like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"A-Anniversary? Oh right, yeah… anniversary…" Aomine palmed his nape. How the hell was he supposed to know when their anniversary was? He’d just barely learned to adjust to this new life he’d been smacked in the face with and now Kise was staring at him, hands outstretched, and wearing that smile that made Aomine’s knees turn to jello. "Well, uh, you see… I don’t actually have it… here. Like, right now."

Kise’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment dimming that thousand-watt smile. “You forgot our anniversary.”

"I didn’t forget! I just— gimme a chance to explain—"

But Kise had already slid off the bed before Aomine could finish. “I gotta get ready. Make sure Takeshi’s dressed so I can drop him off at daycare on my way to the airport.”

"You’re flying out tonight?"

"Mhm," Kise said without so much as a glance in his direction. Somehow, Aomine got the distinct feeling Kise was trying to hold back the waterworks and miserably failing. "I’ll be back in a few days."

"But—" 

Guilt hit him in the form of a brick wall, but the weight of it drove it all home when Kise suddenly popped his head out from the bathroom. “I’m glad you liked the jersey, Aominecchi,” he said, smile rueful before he shut the door behind him. 

Aomine flinched. Kise hadn’t called him that since the glimpse began.

* * *

 

"I can’t believe you forgot the anniversary."

Aomine sighed. “I know, goddammit. You don’t have to remind me.” 

"Dad would never forget their anniversary." Sachi paused, her nose scrunching before she spoke again. "You used a bad word."

"Sorry, kiddo. I’m still sorta getting used to the whole ‘dad’ deal, okay? Cut me some slack." He grabbed the chocolate syrup from the counter and poured a generous amount into the milk before making a show of stirring it so that it ended up with frothy bubbles at the top. Sliding the glass over, his brows creased while he waited for the verdict. "How is it?"

Sachi took a sip and smacked her lips. Her eyes narrowed like she was thinking really hard about her answer and after a moment, nodded her approval. “Better. Much better. You’re getting really good at this.”

"Yeah, well, at least I got something right today," he grumbled, bracing himself against the counter and pouring some chocolate syrup into his mouth. "He was really upset. The anniversary thing — it’s a really big deal, huh?"

Nodding solemnly, Sachi gave him a doleful look that reminded him of Kise right before the waterworks started. “Super huge deal. Like ginormous. Dad always does something special for Papa every year.”

"Special like what? Make him breakfast in bed?"

"Hmmm… that’s good, but not good enough. Think  _bigger_.”

"You sure you’re only five? I feel like you’re playing the expert here and it’s weirding me out." Aomine chuckled. So many things about Sachi reminded him of Kise and the realization suddenly warms him. "What’d he do before?"

"Well, one year, he got a star named after him." Sachi’s eyes lit up and the brilliant smile that followed was definitely Kise Ryouta material.  _ **Aomine**_ _Ryouta_ , he corrected himself. Months into the glimpse and Aomine still had trouble believing that Kise had actually taken his name.

"That’s kinda cheesy, isn’t it?"

Sachi shrugged and finished off the rest of her chocolate milk. “Dad was a big cheeseball when it came to Papa.”

"Bigger, huh?" Aomine tapped his chin, brows pinched together while he wracked his brain for things that would fit the bill of Sachi’s vague suggestion. And then a light bulb flashed, the idea smacking him in the face like it should have been the most obvious thing. "How about taking him into the city for a Knicks game?"

"Now you’re talking."

* * *

 

Kise, as it turned out, was not so inclined to forgive Aomine as easily as he had hoped. He’d been quiet when he returned from his scheduled flights, more subdued than Aomine ever remembered him being. Only then did the magnitude of what he’d done hit him, complete with an overwhelming sense of guilt that urged him to make it right. He was determined to fix his mistake and if he had to throw Kise over his shoulder to get him to the game, he’d gladly do it. 

But as they entered the stadium, crowd already at full throttle in anticipation for one of the most talked about games in the season, Aomine knew he’d made the right choice. 

"I still can’t believe it’s so much bigger than I thought it’d be," Kise breathed, scanning the crowd during halftime before they made their way back up the stairs that led to their nosebleed seats. "The view is amazing!"

They settled in and just as Aomine turned to hail one of the vendors milling around with snacks, he halted mid-wave, Kise’s expression momentarily taking his breath away. “Yeah,” he murmured absently, “it is.”

Kise turned to say something and  his face flushed scarlet when he realized Aomine had been involuntarily staring. Though he usually wasn’t one to turn away, his embarrassment at having been caught red-handed flared enough that he was sure Kise would be able to see the lingering effects.

"Baka Daiki. You’re not off the hook yet." Kise pretended to pout, but Aomine saw the unmistakeable twinkle in his eyes and, without warning, felt a small flutter in his stomach. It was nostalgic in a way, safe; it reminded him of something he hadn’t felt in years, something only Kise had ever managed to do, and it magnified when that thousand-watt smile finally materialized. "But you’re getting close."

"Nuh uh," Aomine countered as he leaned in, mouth curving into a mischievous grin. "This is close." He inched forward again. "And closer." His lips were a breath away from Kise’s and though he made no move to turn away, Aomine hesitated. Kise’s eyes were closed, a faint tinge of pink on his face, and suddenly it was ten years ago and nothing had changed. 

"A lot closer," came Kise’s whisper before Aomine closed the distance between them. Suddenly, a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ surrounded them and they broke apart, breathless, only to realize that their faces were unabashedly displayed on the Kiss Cam screen. 

Aomine chuckled and Kise flushed, both throwing a wave toward the camera as the crowd clapped around them. “Always wondered what’d it be like to end up on that thing.”

"Well, now you know." Kise’s grin was magnetic and Aomine couldn’t help being pulled in any more than he could the first time he laid eyes on him. 

The game, as exciting and thrilling as it was to be back in the stadium he had once called his second home, paled in comparison to the way Kise’s eyes lit up with each play. They watched in fervent awe, yelling when the referee made some bad calls and going nuts when the Knicks scored over and over again. Eventually, Aomine’s hand found Kise’s, fingers threading together just as the Knicks scored a game changing three-pointer that had the stadium erupting in zealous cheers. The squeaks of shoes and hollow thud of the basketball was what brought them together and watching it with Kise now was like coming home.

* * *

 

“Aomine? Aomine Daiki?”

Hearing his name as he came out of the bathroom wasn’t something he expected, though the drawl of that voice tugged at familiar strings and he turned, brows creasing when he realized who it was. “Imayoshi Shouichi,” he said, a lone brow rising in surprise. Aomine hadn’t seen Touou’s former captain since the other graduated after Aomine's first year of high school. Imayoshi’s unique style of leadership was something Aomine had always attributed as a benchmark in his rising career, though he’d never have freely admitted it in his younger days. “Didn’t expect to see you, of all people. Been a long time.”

“Ah, yes, it has.” Imayoshi pushed his glasses up in that familiar way Aomine remembered and for a moment, he was back in high school all over again. His former senpai looked much the same as the last time Aomine had seen him, that air of something brimming just beneath the surface of Imayoshi’s outward demeanor still giving him the same uneasy feeling it used to when he was younger. “It seems fitting that I’d run into you at a basketball game, hm? What a coincidence,” he said in a way that made Aomine doubt the veracity of the errant comment.

“Right? You came to see the game?”

“You could say that.” His mouth curved into a smile Aomine had seen once before, years ago when the Imayoshi had first come to Teikou in hopes of recruiting him. Something about it was calculating and if Aomine knew anything about the former Touou captain at all, it was that there was always something hiding behind that creepy smile. “I’m glad to see that you’re still interested in the sport. I had heard about what happened with Kise and the stabbing. My condolences, of course. That’s quite a shame. His career was impressive, even with some of his more questionable fan base.”

Aomine blinked in surprise. “The stabbing?” he repeated, the mentioned incident unfamiliar. He kept himself from asking outright. It would probably sound strange if Kise was involved in something like that and Aomine couldn’t remember it. A part of him wondered how it was that Imayoshi knew so much about his alter ego’s life, but he supposed if Kise’s modeling career was as popular as Imayoshi made it out to be, it wouldn’t have been too far-fetched for the incident to be publicly known. “Right, the stabbing. It’s not something we really like to think about.”

There was a certain glint in Imayoshi’s eyes that gave the impression that there was something else he was trying to say, something he needed to ease Aomine into. “Of course. I certainly understand. It’s still a shame, what with your talent and all. You could have been one of the greats. One of the few who ever gave me goosebumps at the thought of playing against you, to be honest. Such a shame, indeed.”

And there it was. Aomine remembered that day, one of the few he recalled with vivid clarity; it was the day he decided to attend Touou, after all. “Listen, cut the crap and say what it is that I know you’re itching to say. Ryouta’s waiting for me.” He shook his head and gave a snort of disbelief. “You haven’t changed much since high school.”

“Neither have you, it seems.” Imayoshi was silent for a moment like he was actually considering what Aomine had said before he spoke again. “Very well,” he finally conceded. “It would save us some time if I’d just cut to the chase.” There was a pregnant pause, Imayoshi’s stalling method beginning to grate on Aomine’s nerves.

“Eh?” Aomine glanced at his phone for the time. “Just spit it out, will ya? I gotta get going.”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you. For old times’ sake.”

“Keeping tabs on me? Why?”

“Recruitment purposes.” Imayoshi sighed, his expression showing a hint of something Aomine couldn’t quite figure out. “Your talent was something of a phenomenon, even when you were younger. I understand that before you decided to prematurely cut your basketball career short, you were a leading contender in the draft.”

Aomine couldn’t exactly say he remembered any of this, but he’d kept Kise waiting long enough as it was. Impatiently motioning for Imayoshi to continue, he scowled, figuring he should respond like he knew what the other was talking about. “So? What about it?”

“What if you were still a contender?”

That caught him off guard. While he couldn’t speak for his alter ego, he’d be lying if he said the idea of him playing the sport again on a professional level didn’t give him a sense of that thrill he remembered when he was first drafted. “Stop fucking with me. There’s no way.”

“Actually, that’s not entirely true.” Imayoshi handed him a card, the light reflecting off his glasses when he pushed them up again. “A talent like yours only comes once in a lifetime, Aomine. You were a monster then and I have no doubt that it’s still there, dormant and waiting. I’m giving you a second chance at the life you should have had.”

“Why do I get the feeling that we didn’t just ‘accidentally’ run into each other?” he muttered. Glancing at the card, Aomine’s brows creased, the words just now registering as he took in the information printed on it. “You’re a recruiter?”

“Think about it.”

“I—yeah, okay,” he managed, still too stunned to say anything remotely intelligible.

And with a light pat on his shoulder, Imayoshi turned and walked away, leaving Aomine staring after him.

* * *

 

“What took you so long?” Kise stood outside the stadium, scarf bundled around his neck, and hands pressed against his mouth to warm them. His expression shifted as soon as he saw him, searching Aomine's face in concern.

 “You’ll never guess who I ran into.” Aomine palmed his nape and chuckled. The card burned a hole in his pocket and just thinking about it increased his excitement tenfold.

“I give up! Who was it?” Kise asked, visibly relaxing, though there was still a hint of wariness as he waited for Aomine to explain.

“Imayoshi Shouichi. Who would’ve thought, huh?”

“Your old captain from Touou? Wow, what was he doing here?”

Aomine adjusted his scarf before grabbing Kise’s hand, gloved fingers threading between his as they made their way toward the parked Honda. “Recruiting me, apparently.”

Kise was silent for a few minutes, huffed breaths the only sound audible. “What did you tell him?”

Something in Kise’s tone gave Aomine pause. “I said I’d think about it.”

More silence. “And are you? Thinking about it, I mean?”

The highway should be less crowded this time of night and Aomine was glad for it. Kise’s prolonged silences were starting to worry him. He turned on the heater as they drove on and as Aomine shifted to make himself more comfortable, he removed the gloves from connecting hands and set them aside before linking their fingers again. “I dunno,” he finally said with a shrug. “I guess? It just happened and I’m still kind of in shock, but can’t say that I’m necessarily opposed to giving him a call.”

“What about your job? You love your job.” Kise shook his head. “You said it gave you purpose, remember? After what happened…” He trailed off and Aomine felt his hand tremble.

“He mentioned that.” Aomine hesitated. “So, you got stabbed, huh?”

“Not funny.” Kise pouted and rested his head against Aomine’s shoulder. When Aomine glanced down, Kise’s eyes were closed. “I still have nightmares about that.”

“I know.” Kise had woken up, drenched in sweat, face streaked with tears, on more than one occasion. They’d never talked about it; Kise just seemed more inclined to leave it be and Aomine never pressed for details, afraid that if he did, Kise would lose it and he wouldn’t know how to put him back together. He kissed the top of Kise’s head and sighed, gaze fixated on the road. Their hands hand come undone, Kise’s resting loosely over his before Aomine turned them over, his fingertip idly tracing the lines in Kise’s palm.

“They’re not as bad as before. At least it’s not every night anymore. I think a large part of it was when you decided you wanted to be a policeman after it happened.” Kise lips quirked enough that Aomine saw the makings of a smile. “To protect me. To keep it from ever happening again.” He gave a tired groan before a yawn broke through. “That was a good surprise. We’ve had some bad things happen, but I think there were more of those days, the ‘good surprise’ days.”

“Yeah?” Aomine chuckled and raised Kise’s hand, lips brushing across the back before he set it down on his lap. “What other ones were good surprises?”

Kise slapped his arm, his quiet laughter still that contagious, melodic crescendo that made Aomine wonder how he ever lived without it. “Baka Daiki, like you don’t remember.” Lifting his head, his chin perched on the curve of Aomine’s shoulder, his gaze contemplative. “I thought for sure when you got on that plane that we were done. That you’d leave me behind and wouldn’t come back. I still think that sometimes. You were always this force, you know? And I was always reaching, just reaching, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never keep up. I thought you were so cool back then.” His lips tugged upward, the smile tinged with sadness before it brightened. “But then you came back. I found you on my doorstep the next day and I remember crying like a little kid because I was so sure I’d lost you. That, though… that was a good surprise.”

“I’m still pretty cool.” Aomine smirked. His head, though, was putting everything together, one puzzle piece at a time. “That must be where the scars came from,” he muttered.

“Of course, it is.” Lifting his head, Kise instead turned toward the window, chin resting against the palm of his hand. “It was a wake up call. I loved modeling and traveling and all the attention, but I guess looking back on it now, I’m glad I gave it up. Not all attention is good attention and it was a lucky thing it happened to me instead of you. I’d never forgive myself if Sachi or Takeshi got hurt because of me, either. At least I still get to travel, even if I do miss you a ton when I’m gone.”

“And you look pretty damn good in that uniform, too.” Aomine squeezed Kise’s hand and suggestively waggled his brows.

Kise’s laughter filled the car again and he nodded, some of his enthusiasm returning. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve had a thing for the uniform even before I got my license.”

“I’m a creature of habit. What can I say?” he asked, chuckling as he rolled his shoulders in a too-casual shrug. “You in my Touou jacket, you in the pilot’s uniform. Next up’ll be my old police uniform before the detective thing happened.”

“Oh god, I thought you threw that away after the last time I wore it for you.”

“Wait, you wore it?! Where the hell was I?”

“Drunk off your ass and a good thing, too.” There was that laugh again, stronger this time, and hearing it made Aomine feel like he never wanted it to stop. “It was your birthday, after all.”

“Bet it was a good birthday.”

“It was. One of the best ones.”

“You happy?”

“Mhm, as long as you’re here, Daiki.” The slight slur in Kise’s voice was contagious and for once, Aomine didn’t think about the large bed in his over-priced penthouse. It wasn’t the one he wanted to fall asleep in; not now, probably not ever again.

“Good. I’m glad.” Aomine glanced over as Kise relaxed against the window, eyes closed and breaths evening out. He reached over and affectionately swept Kise’s hair aside, fingertips ghosting over the small scar visible near Kise’s eye.

“I choose us.” He yawned and shifted against his arm, the limb bent like a makeshift pillow.

The words rang in his mind, dragging back memories of the first time Kise had ever said them. After a few minutes, Aomine knew Kise had fallen asleep, leaving him to his thoughts the rest of the ride home. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

* * *

 

The next morning, Aomine woke up earlier than usual, snow falling in light flurries and coating everything in a blanket of white. Something had changed, shifted in a way that made him appreciate each moment, and at once he knew.

Takeshi was already awake, studying him with those ocean blue eyes that mirrored his own like they were taking everything in, processing them. And then he smiled. Aomine’s lips quirked in response before committing the sight to memory. He leaned over the side of the crib, fingers gently brushing back Takeshi’s hair before he kissed his forehead. “You take care, little man.”

Sachi took a little goading to wake up, but when she opened her eyes, amber the exact shade of Kise’s, the wait was worth it. “Dad?” she asked, voice groggy with sleep.

“You wanna build a snowman?”

That got her attention and they spent the rest of the afternoon doing exactly that. Sachi’s laugh filled the air around them, softer than Kise’s, but carrying the same melodic tone and Aomine found himself doing things just to hear the sound. They threw snow balls and made snow angels until they were both too tired to do anything else, Sachi clambering up and balancing on his chest as the afternoon sun loomed just above the horizon.

She brushed her hair out of her eyes, gloved hands damp from the snow, and wearing that smile that reminded Aomine of the sun. “Welcome back, Daddy.” She leaned in and whispered, the words slightly muffled against the collar of his jacket. “I love you. I knew you’d come back.”

Aomine paused for a second and let the words sink in before he mirrored the smile, arms circling around her as he echoed the sentiment. “Love you, too, munchkin.”

Kise was already in bed by the time Aomine finished his shower, book propped up on bent knees and reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping as Kise put the book down. Leaning forward, Aomine folded his arms where the book had been, chin resting atop Kise's forearm, silently studying his face until Kise finally spoke up.

“What are you thinking about, Daiki?” he asked, pressing his fingertip between Aomine’s brows and smoothing out the crease.

Instantly, the gesture, like everything else about Kise, calmed him. He grinned, the single word the only thing that can encompass everything on his mind. “You.”

Now it was Kise’s turn to smile. “That’s always good. You keep doing that,” Kise teased, fingers affectionately running through Aomine’s hair.

“I want you to promise me something.”

Kise’s paused mid-sweep, golden gaze focused intently on Aomine’s face as he nodded. “Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll remember this, right here, how we are right now at this very moment.”

“Daiki, wha—“

“Just promise me.” He exhaled slowly before lifting his head from his arm. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Kise agreed, the rest of his response cut off as Aomine kissed him.

His hands cradled Kise’s face, as though that one gesture could bind him there, keep him from going back. He continued the kiss; slowly, languidly, remembering the way their lips fit together like two halves of a whole.

He woke up the next morning alone, a hand reaching out for something he already knew was long gone.

* * *

 

There were messages in his voicemail and it wasn’t until hours later when he finally managed to get himself out of bed that he checked them. A few were from Kagami and some of the other players from the team, wondering where he’d been the night before. Perplexed, he glanced at the time stamps only to realize that they were from that morning.

“What the fuck? How is it still Christmas Day?” he muttered, reaching up to palm the top of his head as he continued listening to the rest of the messages.

The last one caught him by surprise and he nearly dropped the phone as soon as he heard the voice, tentative and familiar, one that he thought, when he woke up that morning, he would never hear again.

_“Aominecchi, it’s me. I’m in town for a few more hours and I wanted to know if you were busy. I had a shoot in the city and I know I haven’t seen you in forever, but my assistant found your number and I thought, what the hell, why not? This is my international line, so you can reach me here if you get this before my flight leaves. Hope to see you soon!”_

Throwing on his old Touou shirt, he slipped into a pair of track pants and rummaged around in his closet before tugging out a blue sweatshirt, faded with age, the remnants of the Kaijou logo still imprinted across the front. He put it on, grabbed a small black box from the back of his sock drawer, and left, fingers dashing across the screen as he sent out a text message:

 
    
    
    **Sent to: Kise**  
    
    [text]: got your message  
    
    [text]: there’s a small coffee shop on the second floor of the airport  
    
    [text]: meet you in half an hour?

 

He was nearly there when his phone buzzed, a certain sense of relief easing the knot that had settled in his stomach.

 
    
    
    **Received from: Kise**  
    
    [text]: already here  
    
    [text]: can’t waitヾ(@^▽^@)ノ

 

The coffee shop was crowded as it always was, but he spotted Kise in the corner easily, eyes searching for him like an automatic reaction. Aomine sucked in a breath, momentarily rooted where he stood, watching Kise’s face and piecing together remnants of something that felt like it happened a million years ago.

“Aominecchi!” Kise waved him over, instantly snapping Aomine out of his reverie as he made his way through the throng of people and deposited himself in the seat across from him.

“Hey,” he began because it was the only thing he could think to say despite the questions drilling holes into his mind.

“You look good.”

“Thanks. You, too.” Even as the words came out, he was unabashedly staring, taking in the longer shag, the angled features, the perfect fucking mouth that he’d never been able to get out of his head. The boyish good looks were still there, aged in all the right ways, and for a second, he was rendered speechless. “Your hair got longer.”

Kise laughed, that same musical laugh he’d fallen in love with, and the sound twisted something inside him, a lingering effect of whatever it was he’d just experienced. Kise pressed a few strands between his fingertips, his expression teasing. “Yeah, hair does that, you know.” He paused and laid his hands out on the table, a certain excitement brimming in him that Aomine found he missed. “I know you probably think I’m crazy, calling you out of the blue like this, but I figured, the worst thing you could have done was say ‘no’.”

“Nah.” Aomine cleared his throat. “I’m actually glad you called. I found something that reminded me of you the other day and then I got your message.” It was a lie, but as he pulled out the small black box and slid it across the table, he figured there wasn’t anything else he could say about a gift he’d kept hidden away for the last ten years that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete lunatic still pining over his ex. “I was supposed to give it to you on our anniversary when I came home during the training break, but never got the chance. It’s yours, so I thought, y’know…”

It took another minute for Kise to answer, his gaze fixated on the black box in front of him like it was a ticking time bomb and not some piece of jewelry. “Aominecchi, I—“

“It’s an earring,” he said, cutting him off before Kise could continue his train of thought. “Blue. I had wanted to give you something that reminded you of me while I was away. So you wouldn’t forget.”

Kise popped the box open, eyes glistening as he looked from the box to Aomine’s face and back to the box again. He pulled out the small hoop and turned it over between his fingertips. “I—“ he began, but his voice cracked and he shook his head before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “I didn’t forget.” Another pause. “I thought it was stupid to call you out like this, that there was no way that you could—“ He let out a slow, shuddering breath and his eyes dropped to his hands. “I could never forget. I came to see you because I needed to know if--” Hopelessly, he lifted his eyes to meet Aomine’s. “I’m sorry, Daiki. I’m so sorry. For thinking you left me behind, for thinking you’d forgotten about me, for everything.”

“Hey.” Aomine reached across the table and took Kise’s hand, fingers trembling slightly as his heartbeat drummed in his chest. “I know. I know and I’m sorry, too.”

“Can we, I don’t know, maybe—“

“—start over?”

Kise nodded, a hopeful smile brightening his face despite the streaks of tears that marked it. “I choose us.”

And even though he didn’t know what would happen or where they would go from there, Aomine found that he didn’t really care. Kise was the only thing that mattered and with him, Aomine was home. He mirrored the nod, Kise’s smile contagious as he echoed:

“I choose us.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ [limitlessmonster](http://limitlessmonster.tumblr.com). :D


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